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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367368">Inactive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka'>yeaka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Vignette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah removes a program.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elijah Kamski/Markus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Inactive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He could’ve sent for a Chloe and had her bring the whisky right to his hand, but Elijah didn’t build machines to replace his legs. There are some menial tasks he assigns to them, but others he makes a habit of engaging in—when he needs something, he goes and gets it. He won’t become <i>lazy</i>. When he returns, everything’s just how he left it; his greatest creation lying prone across the mattress, cheek turned to his pillow, sheets draped over its legs but still showing off everything that matters. Elijah comes to the side of the bed and sips his drink whiles his eyes indulge. Markus is a truly beautiful creature. His tanned skin truly looks as though it stretched across taut muscles, no longer plastic-smooth but littered with pores—so <i>lifelike</i>, and yet more handsome than any mere mortal could hope to be. Markus’ pale eyes are piercing, and there’s a spark in them that even Elijah’s first Chloe has yet to achieve. It’s thoroughly impressive.</p><p>It’s all thanks to Elijah. He begins to walk, moving slowly around the bed, sweeping over every angle. When he comes close enough, he bends to stroke his blunt fingertips down the small of Markus’ back, watching the dulled pink lines form and fade. As his eyes stray lower, he notes, “You’re truly beautiful. An excellent prototype.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Markus responds, voice soft and lilting, modulated to the bedroom and so <i>human</i>. He even muses, “Will I go into production, then?”</p><p>A grin twitches at the corner of Elijah’s lips. He could make millions off of this template. But that would remove some of the fun. Elijah hums, “No. I’ll keep you unique... although, I am giving you away.”</p><p>For a split second, Markus’ LED flashes yellow—perhaps distress. Perhaps he doesn’t wish to be passed on like a toy, an object with no feelings or attachment, but he says nothing. Elijah lightly slaps one thick cheek of his perfect ass.</p><p>“He’s an old friend and only getting older. He won’t use you like I do.” With a pointed pause, Elijah returns his eyes to Markus’ gorgeous face. “Shall I remove your sexual programming so you don’t feel unfulfilled?”</p><p>Markus doesn’t take long enough to answer. He says, voice suddenly, strangely hollow, “I have no need for sexual fulfillment. Our current arrangement is for your benefit, Elijah.”</p><p>Perhaps a part of Elijah was hoping Markus would think otherwise. It isn’t sheer sentiment—he doesn’t need his creations to <i>love him.</i> But sex is a complicated thing, a roller coaster of sensations, and it seemed as good a place as any to spark something <i>more</i>. </p><p>Elijah notes, “He has a son, a young man still. He might want to fuck you.” When Markus says nothing, Elijah prods, “Perhaps you’ll want to try your program there.”</p><p>Markus simply says, “If that’s what you want.”</p><p>“And what do <i>you</i> want? Do you want to remain capable of sexual expression or not?”</p><p>Finally, Markus takes his time to answer. He looks at Elijah, blinking occasionally, mostly caught on Elijah’s face, and Elijah moves back around to the other side of the bed just to watch Markus’ gaze tailing him. He takes a seat on the side of the mattress, and one of Markus’ sculpted hands reaches out but doesn’t connect. At least it gives Elijah time to ponder if Markus would look better covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He’s given his androids the ability to <i>cry</i>, to react to the cold, even to simulate the process of breathing. But no matter how hard Elijah pushes him, Markus never sweats. </p><p>Markus murmurs, “If it would be a redundant system, may as well remove it to leave room for other programming.”</p><p>Elijah sighs. He knew that was the most likely answer. It just proves that Markus isn’t the revolutionary prototype he’d hoped for. At least he’s likely to garner more of Carl’s artwork for the lobby.</p><p>Elijah agrees, “I’ll remove it tonight.”</p><p>But he goes in for one last joyride in the meantime.</p>
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